Some time in the middle of last semester, me and my girl friends in the block suddenly decided to buy tickets to Coron because of Cebu Pacific's seat sale. Thanks to our professor being late, one of my blockmates surfing on the web chanced upon the ad. It only took us about fifteen minutes or so to decide that we should go on a trip on January, considering the month-long Christmas/semester break that awaited us.

The weeks in between that fateful day (which I now forgot, haha) and the much-awaited trip proved to be long and difficult, considering the hurdles we had to go through before we earned our vacation. But alas, it finally arrived, and turned out to be every bit as we imagined.

Coron was lovely in its simplicity, beautiful in the calm. It was a quiet, idyllic town, with nothing but the sea to offer as its charm. But it was definitely more than enough.

We were astounded numerous times in the trip, especially after every lake, after every glimpse of each corner of the waters. And perhaps it was only fitting. Sometimes, it's in the quietest of places that we find the loudest affirmations - of the wonders of nature, and of the joy of sharing it with people you care about. So loud in your head does the awe strike you, in fact, that it renders you absolutely speechless.

(And behold, the photo dump.)

Just a few hours ago, His Holiness Pope Francis finally landed in the Philippines. With great joy and much excitement, he was welcomed by almost every Filipino, Catholics and non-Catholics alike, all over the nation. The moment we saw him step out of the airplane and waved to the crowd, he won the country over - although to be honest, it wasn't a very difficult crowd to charm anyway. We've been in love with this Pope long before we saw a glimpse of his face on the airplane window. He's been a breath of fresh air, a silver lining amidst everything that's been going on in our lives, individually and as a nation. The way he has been leading by example and showing nothing but love for others, it's difficult to imagine anyone not being smitten by him, especially us Filipinos. I can think of no other person in the world whose visit will cause the closure of roads, the cancellation of flights, and a five-day holiday/long weekend.

A great perk of living near the airport: when the news outlets reported that the Sri Lankan airline carrying the Pope had entered the Philippine area of responsibility, my mom and I immediately rushed outside to our garden and looked up in the sky, waving like crazy fangirls while shouting, "Hello, Pope Francis!"

I'm rarely ever a fangirl to anything, let alone anyone, but man, if I have to name one person I totally went out of my way for numerous times just to attend his "gigs," it would definitely be the Pontifex.


In 1995, when Pope John Paul II visited the country for the second time, I vividly remember standing along Roxas Boulevard, waiting for the papal mobile to pass by. I had just turned three, and didn't fully comprehend why we had to wait for long hours under the sun just to catch a glimpse of a man in white. All I knew was, according to my parents and my tita, we were waiting for a special person. And when you're three, you only associate the words "special person" with Santa Claus and the Power Rangers -- which was enough to make me excited, really.

I don't understand now how a tiny little girl like me was not trampled by the crowd that eagerly anticipated the pope, but I do understand that even for a young, naive child, the frenzy that took over everyone around me meant that this man was a truly exceptional person. When his pope mobile finally whizzed by, his smiling face was something I clearly remembered. He was waving, and we were all waving back. He was a vision in white, an friendly lolo that was saying hello to all of us.

At three, I didn't know who he was, but I got a sense of what it was that made him special. I saw it for myself; I just didn't understand yet.

"Bakit siya may platito sa ulo?" I asked innocently.

And it was the start of a great journey of getting to know the Pope.


Almost ten years later, in 2003, I was one of the few students chosen to represent our school in the 4th World Meeting of Families, which was to be held here in Manila. I was of course, thrilled and excited. It meant missing school for a few days to attend a week-long seminar with thousands of other delegates from all over the world about our families, our faith, and the Church. It meant singing and dancing, eating and be merry, learning about new cultures. It's not something all fifth-graders get to experience.

But it also meant missing the entire Intramurals which, for a first-time cheerdancer like me, was actually pretty devastating. I already had my costume, I already earned the bruises from my attempts at forward rolls and cartwheels. We already had the routine down pat. Being a cheerleader meant a lot because I was a nerdy honor student, and how often does the geeky girl get chosen to dance for Intrams, right? I remember crying to my papa one night, asking him to help me with what seemed like the toughest decision of my life at the time. (Yeah, you have permission to roll your eyes now, ha ha hahaha.) I think it was the first time he taught me the idiom "You can't have your cake and eat it too." I had to make a decision; I couldn't have it both ways.

The next morning, I found myself awake at 5:30 am, on the way to the PICC to attend the opening ceremonies of the World Meeting of Families. Over the course of the next few days, I would meet kids of all ages, from Pasig to Perth. It was amazing to see so many people of different colors all in one place. We were all discussing about love - of family, of friends, of neighbors. Of God. We spoke in different tongues, but somehow we understood each other.

Capping of that very eventful week was a camp at Luneta, where a Mass will be celebrated by Pope John Paul II via live telecast. He was already quite weak and fragile at the time, no longer able to go on long trips to places like the Philippines. But it was evident how much love he had for the country; and once again, I was immersed in that collective effervescence. The entire night leading up to the Mass, the entire Luneta Park was in a frenzy. We were once again singing and dancing, listening to different priests and nuns speak and share their experiences. It was probably my first big "sleepover" and one of the first few times I ever went beyond my bedtime (the Mass was going to be at early in the morning, MNL time), but it was so, so worth it.

When Pope John Paul's face finally flashed on screen, I forgot about the biting 2:00 am cold. All I can remember was how great it was to be surrounded by this kind of love - the love of one God, the love of one pope, the love of many people. The love that speaks of self-sacrifice, of giving, of forgiving. A love which, I will later continuously find out, is greater than nothing else.


One uneventful summer night in April of 2005, I woke up in a cold sweat, bawling my eyes out, surprised at what just happened inside my head. I dreamt of the Pope, knocking on the door of our house, strangely knowing who I am and where I lived. We talked on our couch, talking like new friends, but laughing like old ones. He asked me about my mom and my pop, how close I was with them, how they deserve my love and understanding, how lucky I was to be blessed with a family that is complete and secure. I remember him touching me on my shoulder, and suddenly feeling jolted - and before long tears were rushing out of my eyes.

I cried and moved to my mom's dressing room, unsure of how to take in the dream. It was so odd; it was summer and I wasn't worrying about anything big or serious.

The following day, news broke out that John Paul II had passed away.


Just this summer, during my internship, I experienced the lowest point thus far of my adult (and particularly law school) life. I remember feeling literally crippled at the thought that the future was no longer certain, that the past and the present suddenly might mean nothing. As my office was just several blocks away from Landmark, I found myself in their 5th floor chapel every evening, where a statue of the newly-canonized St. John Paul II was. I would pray to him, and ask for his intercession every single day, even went so far as to write letters to him in hopes of receiving the same grace he showered me with numerous times in the last two decades. No day went by without worry, but each one ended with a little sense of relief - that God is listening, that everything will be alright. That I had a friend up there who was helping me not lose sight of what's important and what truly matters.

A few months after my prayer was answered, I was in a mall with my family for my lolo's birthday when, after buying bread, the store-owner suddenly looked at me, smiled, and said, "God bless you." I thought it was a nice remark, but nothing out of the ordinary. To my surprise, however, she handed me a stampita. It had a prayer and a novena on it -- in honor of St. John Paul II, and his upcoming feast day, October 22. Just a few days shy of my birthday.


Now, seeing Pope Francis, feeling the tremendous and overwhelming sense of exuberance even through the screen, I can't help but have goosebumps. The Pope is still human. He is only a bringer of the Good News, only a Shepherd of the flock, only a representative of Jesus in the Church. He is not an idol, he is not God. That much I am aware of.

But he can be many things as well, if we let him be. He can be the instrument of change, he can be a symbol of hope. He can be the voice that quells the doubts inside our hearts, he can be the light that guides our way home. He is a person of love and compassion, and he is only more than welcome to be a part of our lives, if only we let him.

I wish I had a story to share about Pope Benedict XVI too. But anyway, I don't claim to be special or particularly blessed just because I've had these experiences with His Holiness. I wouldn't even dare call them personal encounters. But they're moments I've had, and they're moments I treasure. They've deepened my faith and my understanding of my Church. I'm not a perfect Catholic - I've had my doubts, questions, and troubles too. However, I'm glad to have had reasons to still stay and stand firm in my beliefs, the Pope(s) definitely being one of the biggest in my book. I'd like to believe I'm a better person for the changes, big and small, their presence has done for me.


Benvenuto, Pope Francis!  ♥

At certain points in our life, we come to the conclusion that "home" isn't confined to the definition of a place. Home can be a person, home can be a feeling. Home is the sense of permanence, regardless of the tangible object that has come to represent it. It matters not where your foot first walked, as long as your heart recognizes the feel of the soil on which the steps were made.

1. I pray for strength, the kind that will carry me through bad recitations, strict professors, lengthy provisions, and arduous examinations. But more than that, I wish for the determination to finish what I began, and reach the end with great satisfaction and an unwavering sense of wanting to serve.

2. I pray for more love, to give and to receive. For the people most dear to me, and the people I have yet to hold close.

3. I wish for time - or rather, the gift of having the time to appreciate the people, the thing, and the places that matter to me. The last year has been incredibly tough in many ways, but it was also satisfying to think of the milestones I got to spend with the people I cherish. May 2015 bring more beach trips, lunches out, dinners in, travels, and quiet moments in the living room, listening to Alessi Brothers and Vivaldi.

4. There is nothing more satisfying than discovering new words and finding new meanings to old ones. Language has always been a friend, but perhaps less in 2014 than all the years before. I did not get to read books for my leisure as much as I would have wanted to; more so, I failed to write with the same urgency as before. This year, I hope to re-learn words I already know, to use them on feelings and places both new and familiar. More books to have and hold, more emotions to elucidate.

5. Sickness was never a friend, but if there is anything I learned about getting a disease, it is knowing how important it is to value the temple that is our body. I hope none of the people I care about get touched by anything destructive or weakening; and if they do, may they find the grace and strength to recover, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. As for myself, I hope I find the time to devote respect and care for my body, the way I did over the summer when I started doing bikram yoga. I have to give myself the physical care it deserves - may the new year give me opportunities to do so, in ways I can faithfully carry out.

6. Last year, I found a renewed friendship with an old friend, the pen: through calligraphy. I have always found myself playing around with my handwriting, and figured it must do my hands good to learn something new with it. It's liberating to immerse yourself in a new hobby, that requires a new skill and a new kind of discipline. Learning calligraphy is not entirely easy, but it's not difficult either. It's just a matter of actually picking up the pen, and having the courage to write. May the creativity never waver.

7. Just before the year ended, I learned a new song on the piano. It took me an entire day, but by dusk, I was playing two verses and the chorus. I hope that this year, I take on life with the same patience, the same willingness to go through each key, each sharp, each line - each day - until I finish the song. Patience is an elusive acquaintance to some people, but I pray to always have it as a friend.

8. I've always believed that it is always better to be kind than right, which is a mindset that isn't always reflective of a future lawyer. But I found that there are far greater rewards when you choose your battles, and let goodness do the winning, instead of your pride. I pray that each day of this year be filled with kindness, from me, and on me and on the people I love.

9. "When there's nothing left to burn you have to set yourself on fire,"* so goes one of my favorite songs. I hope all the endeavors I take on in the new year be filled with passion, the kind that makes one feel "as if you were on fire from within, the moon lives in the lining of your skin."**

10. Faith. In God, in His grace, in the goodness He brings to the people in my life and in mine.


Here's to more love, luck, and laughter in 2015! Cheers! 


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* Your Ex-Lover is Dead by Stars
** Ode to A Naked Beauty by Pablo Neruda

For the first time in n years, we finally had a Christmas party that wasn't at Trixie's house and pool! Grabe, I think we deserve the award for most improved barkada ever! First, the dinners out. Then, the summer getaway to Quezon. And now, this! :)) Congrats, guys, we're finally growing up!




Last Saturday and Sunday, we stayed at Parque Espana, a residence hotel right at the heart of Filinvest in Alabang. Tin booked for us a three-bedroom suite, which was pretty spacious and a lot bigger than we all expected for the price we paid.






A point worthy of note: the venue may have "levelled up" but the games, the kwentuhan, and the jokes certainly didn't! We were still our usual corny, high school selves :)) No complaining though - that's the best thing about being with these guys, anyway. When we're all together, it always feels like the old times.

Game of the night: Heads Up! First, we did it by (love)teams. But after a few rounds, the single ladies demanded a re-shuffle of teams. :)) It was totally hilarious! I can't believe how a simple game can bring out a crazy level of competitiveness. Riot ensued after every round. My only regret is that I didn't get to save the videos! :( And to think there weren't really any stakes, only bragging rights! Kagulo talaga.








Armand (Kassey's boyfriend) did bring a bottle of alcohol to spice things up a little. We played Hope's signature game of "Pabobohan" which is actually just the grade school version of the category game, where someone gives out a topic and whoever fails to say something under said topic has to take a shot. Sobrang lame! Hahaha! :)) We did have a song for it, which is awesome... for a fifth grader :))

We called up Nica (who's in the States) via Viber, so she could play along with us. She ended up being the game-master, aka taga-bigay ng category - which meant every category was either difficult or incredibly amusing. (Kapuso starlets, and batchmates who are already married, to name a few!) We also Skyped with Tin's new boyfriend, Francis (Yiheeee!), for the exchange gifts. Of course, he's already part of it, even though we haven't met him yet (he works in Singapore). That's the biggest perk of being a plus-one of our group, kasama na sa Kris Kringle! LOL.


     

The next morning, Trixie, Joa, Hope, Ludwin and I went up for a quick swim. The pool was on the top floor, overlooking the entire Filinvest Corporate City and Madrigal Business Park. I think it made Ludwin change his mind about wanting to live in the South. Yay, haha.


 

Before checking out, we spent precious time just taking selfies. (But of course!) There are a lot of more of these on Facebook, but this will have to do. Anyway, the rest are just wackier variations of this shot anyway :))




And then we just had fun on the huge bed :)) Here are our attempt(s) at posing a la One Tree Hill/Tabing Ilog, thanks to the creative director, Tin:








We went to Alabang Town Center afterwards, where we had lunch at Friday's. It was Ludwin's first time at Town, so we had to take a photo. Welcome to the South, Mr. Briones!




There's truth to the gospel according to the Spice Girls: "If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends." Such a shame that we're a smaller group now than we were over the summer (ehem), but we're happy to welcome new faces as well. We've got each other's backs, through hell or high water. And even heartbreak. If there's anything I've learned in all the years we've all been together, it's that there's nothing laughter can't fix.

That, and a little game called "Pabobohan." =))


I think I'm going to sound like a broken record after this, but I'm eternally grateful to have these people in my life. Spending time with these people makes me feel like everything is going to be alright, like the grown-up life isn't as stressful. Adulthood doesn't seem so scary when I have these friends to come home to :)


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This is my 700th post! 700. Can you believe it?! Crazy.

Would you look at that. Genuinely happy and giddy faces of people who now knew what it meant to be taught in the grand manner. And, what do you know — the one class I expected to dislike the most ended up being the class I loved and enjoyed this semester.

Perhaps I'll save the list of reasons for later, that is, after the finals, when I have the right to say I've actually survived it. (Crossing my fingers!) Just putting this up to here to remind myself that there is so much joy in the learning of law; sometimes it just takes one brilliant person to make you realize that.


*


Also: here's an excerpt from a case I just finished digesting for this class. Perfection, as always, from Justice Isagani Cruz. He's easily one of my favorite justices ever.

This may as well be the best introduction to a case I've ever read.

"We are back to the early 1900's in the cool regions of the Mountain Province, setting of many legends of adventure and romance among the highlanders of the North. Our story is not as fanciful, involving as it does not a rivalry for the hand of a beautiful Igorot maiden but a prosaic dispute over a piece of land. Even so, as in those tales of old, the issue shall be decided in favor of the just and deserving albeit according to the dictates not of the heart but of the law.

The hero of this story we shall call Old Man Tumpao although at the time it all began he was still a young and vigorous man. He had a first wife by whom he begot three children, who are the private respondents in this case. Upon her death, he took to himself a second wife, by whom he had no issue but who had two children she had "adopted" according to the practice of the Igorots then. It is their children who, with some others, are the petitioners in this case.

The facts are as simple as the ancient hills."

— Mang-oy v. CA, G.R. No. L-27421 (September 12, 1986)

Who says there's no prose/poetry in ponencias?


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Labels: law school

For about a month or so now, I've been obsessing on calligraphy posts that Instagram has been referring to me. I have no idea how Instagram managed to figure out my yet-to-be-awakened interest on typography and longhand, but it did, thanks to the "People You May Like" page. It led me to a couple of local and international artists very much into the craft of calligraphy, and before I knew it, half of my feed was filled with fancy scribbles. (The other half being puppies. Heehee.)

Unknown to a lot of people, I am a stress-doodler. When I am most anxious or frustrated, I doodle a lot - quotes, lyrics, even shapes. Sometimes I just scribble swirls and random patterns. You can tell it's almost exam week when the corners of my notebooks and reviewers suddenly have Incubus lyrics on them. I enjoy the physical act of writing. I hoard pens of all colors and brands; I have stocks of notebooks and pad papers of all sizes. Yes, I love all kinds of writing. (This is probably why a high school classmate of mine, who once became a seatmate, thought "Creative Writing" was equivalent to "Creative Lettering and Fancy Handwriting." HA HA HAHAHA #truestory)

Which is why I kept asking myself the last few weeks, "Why haven't I tried calligraphy?" I have no idea why I never considered it before. It makes sense to have it as a hobby, given the amount of doodling I do. Maybe it's just that I never really saw people I knew doing it. It wasn't so accessible an idea to me. Until now.

A few weeks ago, I bought myself two calligraphy markers from National Bookstore and spent an entire night - guiltlessly - just writing down the choruses to Taylor Swift's new singles. And just over the weekend, my good friend Jio bought for me actual calligraphy supplies: two nibs, two pen holders (one straight and one oblique), and a small jar of ink.

And now, here I am, trying (and failing!) to make elegant scribbles in longhand. I guess I'm pretty lucky my cursive is quite decent, thanks to the Paulinian handwriting the nuns forced us to learn in grade school. It's actually overwhelming! Holding the pen takes a lot getting used to. So far, I'm still committing a lot of rookie mistakes. (Please forgive some messy letters in the picture above!) But it's great fun. It's relaxing, in the same way my regular, ordinary doodling makes me feel, but it's also challenging, which is always a good feeling to have. It's a nice distraction from the rigidity of law school.

A really, really fancy distraction.

*cue The Cure background music*


Reward for surviving another day of Tax (me), braving the Friday rush hour (him), and remembering milestones like the anniversary (both of us): Dinner at Abe in Trinoma!

I think it's only our first time to be sitting across each other on a date. The restaurant was full and we didn't have much of a choice, but it was fun pretending we were on our first date :))

We had gising-gising, gambas, and lamb adobo - which were all so incredibly delicious, we wanted to shake hands, high-five and then mano with Abe himself. (Pretty sure he's a cool lolo.) Then we had leche flan, which is the best thing on any Filipino restaurant menu ever. It is nectar from the gods; it is a little slice of heaven. It never disappoints. I can say the same for the boyfriend and this relationship thus far - but that'll be too cheesy, so I'll stop it right here :P

Happy 365th day since we decided to put it up on Facebook!

Many moons ago, I had a crush on my classmate in PE.

Every Wednesday and Friday, this song would be on loop inside my head. It was the perfect encapsulation of a happy crush. It was a crush that never went acknowledged. I didn't even bother considering if he reciprocated the feeling in the slightest. I was content walking beside him, talking about mundane things like the weather and birthdays. Oh to be sixteen, and to be partnered with a boy cute enough to make you want to walk for two hours, twice a week, for your first semester in UP. No matter that he wasn't yours, no matter that you shared only pleasantries and phone numbers. It wasn't like anything was ever going to come out of it.

Come sweeten every afternoon, I'd sing to myself.

Didn't think he'd actually do, all these years later.


*


It's been a year since you and I first went to Mass together and updated our status online. We've been going out for months before that, but we wanted the 11-12-13 date to match (because we're baduy like that!) Yep, it couldn't have been more ~*official*~ than God AND Facebook.

People may say "It's only been a year," but wow, if that is what a year with you feels like, then I can't wait for all the rest.

let all the things you mean to me
come tumbling out my mouth

(Let's try something out for a change. I must admit I haven't been able to read as much books for leisure as I used to because of law school. But often my "literary craving" is satiated by a really great article, story, or essay I come across in the Internet. As you may know, I'm more of a long-form fan more than any other kind of writing, and while I appreciate novels, it is almost usually this structure that appeals most to me, as someone who reads and someone who writes. So I guess this is my attempt at sharing that to you guys. Here goes: Required Reading.)








I've been a fan of the New York Times' Modern Love series for quite a few years now, and I can honestly say that every single time, each article makes me go, "Damn, I wish I would have written that." Not necessarily because I could relate and not necessarily because anything similar has happened to me, but because each one is so wonderfully crafted - in a very easy, light, but nonetheless profound - it makes me want to try to write the same way, if only I had the time.

I haven't really come across an article in Modern Love where I truly identified with the writer and the kind of love she was writing about. (I guess the loves that I've had aren't very... modern?) 

But I've always believed that that's an indication of a great piece of writing: when it doesn't necessarily affect you directly on an emotional level, but it actually makes you want to go out there and write, just because you feel that the piece has revealed something to you in its form. Somewhere between those lines is a style, is a rhythm. And you just feel compelled to recreate it.

This article is one such example.

"How love reveals itself is sometimes a slow process, the gradual accretion of all the seemingly mundane acts of kindness, sacrifice, mindfulness and even bad behavior two people share. Sarah's act was an instance of what love looks like, stripped of all the usual bells and whistles. To have the opportunity to witness that, regardless of the circumstances, left me feeling like a fortunate man."

— In A Small Bag, She Packed All Our Hopes by Tim McEown

It's always the little things, isn't it? And how the smallness is magnified by the prose. How I long to keep writing with the same kind of power, the kind that amplifies and finds meaning even in the quietest of things.


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Labels: required reading

So this is how it feels to celebrate your birthday right smack in the middle of midterms season.

I'm so used to having my birthday fall on a semester break, with me feeling all relaxed and laid-back in anticipation of the 26th. But not this year. Thanks to the academic calendar shift, I had the great luck of celebrating it at the height of all the stress! Good thing it fell on a Sunday, or else I probably wouldn't have had the time to really enjoy it.

After having hurdled that hell of a week, I could say that this birthday was definitely well-earned and deserved! I was tired and sleepless for the last two weeks, thanks to make-up classes, exams, and BarOps. But no complaints - I survived! And while I still have the rest of the semester to wade through, I'm glad I got this little day of respite over the last weekend to just hit restart and enjoy the company of loved ones.





We had lunch at this quaint little place in Scout Rallos, Victorino's. It's a restaurant specializing in authentic Ilocano-Filipino cuisine, owned by the Vice Governor of Ilocos, DV Savellano and the famed chef Heny Sison. I've been here before once with my parents, and we really enjoyed the place, which was why we thought it was the perfect, simple setting for my birthday lunch.

The interiors of the place are absolutely lovely. If I'm not mistaken, it was an old, antique house that got refurbished into a homey restaurant. I wasn't able to take photos of the interior design, unfortunately, but let's just say that even for someone like me who hasn't been to Ilocos, the decors sets the ambiance just right - it all seems genuine, authentic, and downright cozy.

And the food - oh, the food. Where do I even begin? Food writing had always been my waterloo back in my non-fic classes in college, because I'm never able to describe food properly when I find them delicious. Puro amazing and so, so good lang kaya ng powers ko pag nasasarapan talaga ako! :)) We ordered a lot actually, because my mom wanted to try out the dishes that you don't normally find in any typical Filipino restaurant, especially the Ilocano specialties. I particularly loved the crispy bagnet chips, the warek-warek (their version of sisig), the longganisa platter, and poqui-poqui (grilled eggplant). It was definitely something for the books! I've never tried most of those dishes before, and I had myself going for second (or third!) servings of almost all the ulam we ordered -- that's how good it was.




Aside from my parents, grandparents, and aunt, Ludwin and his sister Tanya were also there, and it was such a delight having them with us. It's great to see the people I care most in my life come together to celebrate the day with me. It's not everyday you find someone you can bring and introduce to your family, and I'm grateful Ludwin just fits right in. He's the type of guy I never have to worry about introducing to anyone, because he just seems to get on the good side of people always :)) It was nice having Tanya along too; she's been nothing but kind and sweet to me, and I always like hanging out with her. (She just passed the board exams for teachers today, btw. Congrats, dear!)






Allow me to make a separate paragraph dedicated especially for this cake. (Disclaimer: This isn't from Victorino's but from Wowa's friend, who's been making my birthday cakes for the last four years already.) The best part of my birthday is usually the cake - and this year, again, is no exception. Wowa's friend makes cakes of unique flavors, just like this one: orange/lemon chiffon. It's got just the right amount of sweet and tangy combined, which I absolutely love. I'm not so big on sweets but cakes are on a separate pedestal altogether, and this cake just sets the bar :))

And can we all just take a moment to appreciate that little bookmark on top? It's so, so cute! Perfect for this bookworm, really.




After lunch, my family and I went to Mass at Quiapo Church, and offered my thanksgiving for the year that was. This year has been mostly about putting things back together - one of which was working on my faith. I never claimed to be religious or spiritual even, but this year, I found a deeper appreciation for the things I believe in. I guess we all have our journeys to take when it comes to our faith. Mine took a quiet turn to indifference back in college - nothing drastic, but of course I went through that phase of questioning a lot of things about the church. I guess, it's normal for people our age to feel a bit apathetic about religion, especially when you're only starting to navigate your way through adulthood and maturity. But last summer, I realized again how beautiful it is to hold on to my faith and to let it strengthen me. I still have my reservations, but it's mostly about the people and not the beliefs. I started going to Mass more often in the last year, especially this summer during my internship. I'd drop by the chapel at Landmark after work while waiting for my mom and papa to pick me up. And now more than ever, I realized that God has never failed me - even when I thought He did, He has only led me to something better. Always.

Such a great thing my birthday fell on a Sunday, then.





Really couldn't be more grateful to be surrounded by people I love on my birthday. Also worth mentioning: the night before, I got a surprise from my blockmates before our exam, and at midnight during BarOps, my sisses surprised me with cupcakes and a tiara :) I really appreciated the "surprise" (I kinda played mind-games on them and convinced them to surprise me, hahaha what a diva!); it's at times like this when I realize how much I have to be grateful for, and how I really cannot complain about anything because I'm such a lucky girl to be surrounded by great, amazing people. It's always good to be reminded that no matter what happens, there are people who will never leave your side, no matter what. They'll keep your feet on the ground, but they'll push you to greater heights too :)

There was a time when I felt that every single dot of my life created an image of this song. That if you connect all the random moments, all the little parts of me, it would lead you to this song.

I can still vividly recall the first time I heard it. It was in high school, and like all the other bands I loved at that time, it was because of One Tree Hill. This was from the OTH Friends with Benefit soundtrack (which I had an actual copy of; I asked my parents to buy me one when they were in the US).

The moment I heard this song (track number twelve on the CD - yep, I remember) and its dizzying, cathartic one-and-a-half-minute intro, I knew I have found something. What it was exactly, I wasn't quite sure yet. Everything was just a masterful, wonderful melody entwined with words that sounded romantic and sweeping to me. I was sure it was special, but I didn't know yet why.

It easily became my favorite song just because it was titled 23. It was Nathan Scott's jersey number. And it really was nothing more than that. All my high school fangirl-y feelings condensed into one song, and one love that didn't even make sense, for a fictional character. Over the years, 23 had become many things to me. It meant so much to me as the years went on, because it was the score to what I thought was a great love, as defined by that show. (#Naley4ever!!) It sounds crazy and shallow now, but for a teenager with a lot of feelings, it made sense. It was the soundtrack to many other moments long after high school, to many other beers and coffees and hellos and goodbyes. It was the song of my "youth" -- that time of being young, of feeling insecure and scared but also invincible and courageous all at the same time. It was the dramatic montage pre-credits anthem of my being a teenager. 23 defined a chapter of my life; a time so far removed from my present.

The song hasn't changed. But the girl who first listened to it and once held it dear had.

Yep, someone's got a full plate.

Wifely influence.

#YunYonEh
#AlamNa


Public service announcement: Wives (and girlfriends?), take note!


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Labels: law school

Dodo (my grandpa) turned 83rd birthday today, October 7, but we celebrated it last Sunday. We had lunch at Mesa, which is one of my lolo's favorite restaurants. (He loves Filipino food.)

Some time in the middle of last semester, me and my girl friends in the block suddenly decided to buy tickets to Coron because of Cebu Pacific's seat sale. Thanks to our professor being late, one of my blockmates surfing on the web chanced upon the ad. It only took us about fifteen minutes or so to decide that we should go on a trip on January, considering the month-long Christmas/semester break that awaited us.

The weeks in between that fateful day (which I now forgot, haha) and the much-awaited trip proved to be long and difficult, considering the hurdles we had to go through before we earned our vacation. But alas, it finally arrived, and turned out to be every bit as we imagined.

Coron was lovely in its simplicity, beautiful in the calm. It was a quiet, idyllic town, with nothing but the sea to offer as its charm. But it was definitely more than enough.

We were astounded numerous times in the trip, especially after every lake, after every glimpse of each corner of the waters. And perhaps it was only fitting. Sometimes, it's in the quietest of places that we find the loudest affirmations - of the wonders of nature, and of the joy of sharing it with people you care about. So loud in your head does the awe strike you, in fact, that it renders you absolutely speechless.

(And behold, the photo dump.)

Just a few hours ago, His Holiness Pope Francis finally landed in the Philippines. With great joy and much excitement, he was welcomed by almost every Filipino, Catholics and non-Catholics alike, all over the nation. The moment we saw him step out of the airplane and waved to the crowd, he won the country over - although to be honest, it wasn't a very difficult crowd to charm anyway. We've been in love with this Pope long before we saw a glimpse of his face on the airplane window. He's been a breath of fresh air, a silver lining amidst everything that's been going on in our lives, individually and as a nation. The way he has been leading by example and showing nothing but love for others, it's difficult to imagine anyone not being smitten by him, especially us Filipinos. I can think of no other person in the world whose visit will cause the closure of roads, the cancellation of flights, and a five-day holiday/long weekend.

A great perk of living near the airport: when the news outlets reported that the Sri Lankan airline carrying the Pope had entered the Philippine area of responsibility, my mom and I immediately rushed outside to our garden and looked up in the sky, waving like crazy fangirls while shouting, "Hello, Pope Francis!"

I'm rarely ever a fangirl to anything, let alone anyone, but man, if I have to name one person I totally went out of my way for numerous times just to attend his "gigs," it would definitely be the Pontifex.


In 1995, when Pope John Paul II visited the country for the second time, I vividly remember standing along Roxas Boulevard, waiting for the papal mobile to pass by. I had just turned three, and didn't fully comprehend why we had to wait for long hours under the sun just to catch a glimpse of a man in white. All I knew was, according to my parents and my tita, we were waiting for a special person. And when you're three, you only associate the words "special person" with Santa Claus and the Power Rangers -- which was enough to make me excited, really.

I don't understand now how a tiny little girl like me was not trampled by the crowd that eagerly anticipated the pope, but I do understand that even for a young, naive child, the frenzy that took over everyone around me meant that this man was a truly exceptional person. When his pope mobile finally whizzed by, his smiling face was something I clearly remembered. He was waving, and we were all waving back. He was a vision in white, an friendly lolo that was saying hello to all of us.

At three, I didn't know who he was, but I got a sense of what it was that made him special. I saw it for myself; I just didn't understand yet.

"Bakit siya may platito sa ulo?" I asked innocently.

And it was the start of a great journey of getting to know the Pope.


Almost ten years later, in 2003, I was one of the few students chosen to represent our school in the 4th World Meeting of Families, which was to be held here in Manila. I was of course, thrilled and excited. It meant missing school for a few days to attend a week-long seminar with thousands of other delegates from all over the world about our families, our faith, and the Church. It meant singing and dancing, eating and be merry, learning about new cultures. It's not something all fifth-graders get to experience.

But it also meant missing the entire Intramurals which, for a first-time cheerdancer like me, was actually pretty devastating. I already had my costume, I already earned the bruises from my attempts at forward rolls and cartwheels. We already had the routine down pat. Being a cheerleader meant a lot because I was a nerdy honor student, and how often does the geeky girl get chosen to dance for Intrams, right? I remember crying to my papa one night, asking him to help me with what seemed like the toughest decision of my life at the time. (Yeah, you have permission to roll your eyes now, ha ha hahaha.) I think it was the first time he taught me the idiom "You can't have your cake and eat it too." I had to make a decision; I couldn't have it both ways.

The next morning, I found myself awake at 5:30 am, on the way to the PICC to attend the opening ceremonies of the World Meeting of Families. Over the course of the next few days, I would meet kids of all ages, from Pasig to Perth. It was amazing to see so many people of different colors all in one place. We were all discussing about love - of family, of friends, of neighbors. Of God. We spoke in different tongues, but somehow we understood each other.

Capping of that very eventful week was a camp at Luneta, where a Mass will be celebrated by Pope John Paul II via live telecast. He was already quite weak and fragile at the time, no longer able to go on long trips to places like the Philippines. But it was evident how much love he had for the country; and once again, I was immersed in that collective effervescence. The entire night leading up to the Mass, the entire Luneta Park was in a frenzy. We were once again singing and dancing, listening to different priests and nuns speak and share their experiences. It was probably my first big "sleepover" and one of the first few times I ever went beyond my bedtime (the Mass was going to be at early in the morning, MNL time), but it was so, so worth it.

When Pope John Paul's face finally flashed on screen, I forgot about the biting 2:00 am cold. All I can remember was how great it was to be surrounded by this kind of love - the love of one God, the love of one pope, the love of many people. The love that speaks of self-sacrifice, of giving, of forgiving. A love which, I will later continuously find out, is greater than nothing else.


One uneventful summer night in April of 2005, I woke up in a cold sweat, bawling my eyes out, surprised at what just happened inside my head. I dreamt of the Pope, knocking on the door of our house, strangely knowing who I am and where I lived. We talked on our couch, talking like new friends, but laughing like old ones. He asked me about my mom and my pop, how close I was with them, how they deserve my love and understanding, how lucky I was to be blessed with a family that is complete and secure. I remember him touching me on my shoulder, and suddenly feeling jolted - and before long tears were rushing out of my eyes.

I cried and moved to my mom's dressing room, unsure of how to take in the dream. It was so odd; it was summer and I wasn't worrying about anything big or serious.

The following day, news broke out that John Paul II had passed away.


Just this summer, during my internship, I experienced the lowest point thus far of my adult (and particularly law school) life. I remember feeling literally crippled at the thought that the future was no longer certain, that the past and the present suddenly might mean nothing. As my office was just several blocks away from Landmark, I found myself in their 5th floor chapel every evening, where a statue of the newly-canonized St. John Paul II was. I would pray to him, and ask for his intercession every single day, even went so far as to write letters to him in hopes of receiving the same grace he showered me with numerous times in the last two decades. No day went by without worry, but each one ended with a little sense of relief - that God is listening, that everything will be alright. That I had a friend up there who was helping me not lose sight of what's important and what truly matters.

A few months after my prayer was answered, I was in a mall with my family for my lolo's birthday when, after buying bread, the store-owner suddenly looked at me, smiled, and said, "God bless you." I thought it was a nice remark, but nothing out of the ordinary. To my surprise, however, she handed me a stampita. It had a prayer and a novena on it -- in honor of St. John Paul II, and his upcoming feast day, October 22. Just a few days shy of my birthday.


Now, seeing Pope Francis, feeling the tremendous and overwhelming sense of exuberance even through the screen, I can't help but have goosebumps. The Pope is still human. He is only a bringer of the Good News, only a Shepherd of the flock, only a representative of Jesus in the Church. He is not an idol, he is not God. That much I am aware of.

But he can be many things as well, if we let him be. He can be the instrument of change, he can be a symbol of hope. He can be the voice that quells the doubts inside our hearts, he can be the light that guides our way home. He is a person of love and compassion, and he is only more than welcome to be a part of our lives, if only we let him.

I wish I had a story to share about Pope Benedict XVI too. But anyway, I don't claim to be special or particularly blessed just because I've had these experiences with His Holiness. I wouldn't even dare call them personal encounters. But they're moments I've had, and they're moments I treasure. They've deepened my faith and my understanding of my Church. I'm not a perfect Catholic - I've had my doubts, questions, and troubles too. However, I'm glad to have had reasons to still stay and stand firm in my beliefs, the Pope(s) definitely being one of the biggest in my book. I'd like to believe I'm a better person for the changes, big and small, their presence has done for me.


Benvenuto, Pope Francis!  ♥

At certain points in our life, we come to the conclusion that "home" isn't confined to the definition of a place. Home can be a person, home can be a feeling. Home is the sense of permanence, regardless of the tangible object that has come to represent it. It matters not where your foot first walked, as long as your heart recognizes the feel of the soil on which the steps were made.

1. I pray for strength, the kind that will carry me through bad recitations, strict professors, lengthy provisions, and arduous examinations. But more than that, I wish for the determination to finish what I began, and reach the end with great satisfaction and an unwavering sense of wanting to serve.

2. I pray for more love, to give and to receive. For the people most dear to me, and the people I have yet to hold close.

3. I wish for time - or rather, the gift of having the time to appreciate the people, the thing, and the places that matter to me. The last year has been incredibly tough in many ways, but it was also satisfying to think of the milestones I got to spend with the people I cherish. May 2015 bring more beach trips, lunches out, dinners in, travels, and quiet moments in the living room, listening to Alessi Brothers and Vivaldi.

4. There is nothing more satisfying than discovering new words and finding new meanings to old ones. Language has always been a friend, but perhaps less in 2014 than all the years before. I did not get to read books for my leisure as much as I would have wanted to; more so, I failed to write with the same urgency as before. This year, I hope to re-learn words I already know, to use them on feelings and places both new and familiar. More books to have and hold, more emotions to elucidate.

5. Sickness was never a friend, but if there is anything I learned about getting a disease, it is knowing how important it is to value the temple that is our body. I hope none of the people I care about get touched by anything destructive or weakening; and if they do, may they find the grace and strength to recover, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. As for myself, I hope I find the time to devote respect and care for my body, the way I did over the summer when I started doing bikram yoga. I have to give myself the physical care it deserves - may the new year give me opportunities to do so, in ways I can faithfully carry out.

6. Last year, I found a renewed friendship with an old friend, the pen: through calligraphy. I have always found myself playing around with my handwriting, and figured it must do my hands good to learn something new with it. It's liberating to immerse yourself in a new hobby, that requires a new skill and a new kind of discipline. Learning calligraphy is not entirely easy, but it's not difficult either. It's just a matter of actually picking up the pen, and having the courage to write. May the creativity never waver.

7. Just before the year ended, I learned a new song on the piano. It took me an entire day, but by dusk, I was playing two verses and the chorus. I hope that this year, I take on life with the same patience, the same willingness to go through each key, each sharp, each line - each day - until I finish the song. Patience is an elusive acquaintance to some people, but I pray to always have it as a friend.

8. I've always believed that it is always better to be kind than right, which is a mindset that isn't always reflective of a future lawyer. But I found that there are far greater rewards when you choose your battles, and let goodness do the winning, instead of your pride. I pray that each day of this year be filled with kindness, from me, and on me and on the people I love.

9. "When there's nothing left to burn you have to set yourself on fire,"* so goes one of my favorite songs. I hope all the endeavors I take on in the new year be filled with passion, the kind that makes one feel "as if you were on fire from within, the moon lives in the lining of your skin."**

10. Faith. In God, in His grace, in the goodness He brings to the people in my life and in mine.


Here's to more love, luck, and laughter in 2015! Cheers! 


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* Your Ex-Lover is Dead by Stars
** Ode to A Naked Beauty by Pablo Neruda

For the first time in n years, we finally had a Christmas party that wasn't at Trixie's house and pool! Grabe, I think we deserve the award for most improved barkada ever! First, the dinners out. Then, the summer getaway to Quezon. And now, this! :)) Congrats, guys, we're finally growing up!




Last Saturday and Sunday, we stayed at Parque Espana, a residence hotel right at the heart of Filinvest in Alabang. Tin booked for us a three-bedroom suite, which was pretty spacious and a lot bigger than we all expected for the price we paid.






A point worthy of note: the venue may have "levelled up" but the games, the kwentuhan, and the jokes certainly didn't! We were still our usual corny, high school selves :)) No complaining though - that's the best thing about being with these guys, anyway. When we're all together, it always feels like the old times.

Game of the night: Heads Up! First, we did it by (love)teams. But after a few rounds, the single ladies demanded a re-shuffle of teams. :)) It was totally hilarious! I can't believe how a simple game can bring out a crazy level of competitiveness. Riot ensued after every round. My only regret is that I didn't get to save the videos! :( And to think there weren't really any stakes, only bragging rights! Kagulo talaga.








Armand (Kassey's boyfriend) did bring a bottle of alcohol to spice things up a little. We played Hope's signature game of "Pabobohan" which is actually just the grade school version of the category game, where someone gives out a topic and whoever fails to say something under said topic has to take a shot. Sobrang lame! Hahaha! :)) We did have a song for it, which is awesome... for a fifth grader :))

We called up Nica (who's in the States) via Viber, so she could play along with us. She ended up being the game-master, aka taga-bigay ng category - which meant every category was either difficult or incredibly amusing. (Kapuso starlets, and batchmates who are already married, to name a few!) We also Skyped with Tin's new boyfriend, Francis (Yiheeee!), for the exchange gifts. Of course, he's already part of it, even though we haven't met him yet (he works in Singapore). That's the biggest perk of being a plus-one of our group, kasama na sa Kris Kringle! LOL.


     

The next morning, Trixie, Joa, Hope, Ludwin and I went up for a quick swim. The pool was on the top floor, overlooking the entire Filinvest Corporate City and Madrigal Business Park. I think it made Ludwin change his mind about wanting to live in the South. Yay, haha.


 

Before checking out, we spent precious time just taking selfies. (But of course!) There are a lot of more of these on Facebook, but this will have to do. Anyway, the rest are just wackier variations of this shot anyway :))




And then we just had fun on the huge bed :)) Here are our attempt(s) at posing a la One Tree Hill/Tabing Ilog, thanks to the creative director, Tin:








We went to Alabang Town Center afterwards, where we had lunch at Friday's. It was Ludwin's first time at Town, so we had to take a photo. Welcome to the South, Mr. Briones!




There's truth to the gospel according to the Spice Girls: "If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends." Such a shame that we're a smaller group now than we were over the summer (ehem), but we're happy to welcome new faces as well. We've got each other's backs, through hell or high water. And even heartbreak. If there's anything I've learned in all the years we've all been together, it's that there's nothing laughter can't fix.

That, and a little game called "Pabobohan." =))


I think I'm going to sound like a broken record after this, but I'm eternally grateful to have these people in my life. Spending time with these people makes me feel like everything is going to be alright, like the grown-up life isn't as stressful. Adulthood doesn't seem so scary when I have these friends to come home to :)


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This is my 700th post! 700. Can you believe it?! Crazy.

Would you look at that. Genuinely happy and giddy faces of people who now knew what it meant to be taught in the grand manner. And, what do you know — the one class I expected to dislike the most ended up being the class I loved and enjoyed this semester.

Perhaps I'll save the list of reasons for later, that is, after the finals, when I have the right to say I've actually survived it. (Crossing my fingers!) Just putting this up to here to remind myself that there is so much joy in the learning of law; sometimes it just takes one brilliant person to make you realize that.


*


Also: here's an excerpt from a case I just finished digesting for this class. Perfection, as always, from Justice Isagani Cruz. He's easily one of my favorite justices ever.

This may as well be the best introduction to a case I've ever read.

"We are back to the early 1900's in the cool regions of the Mountain Province, setting of many legends of adventure and romance among the highlanders of the North. Our story is not as fanciful, involving as it does not a rivalry for the hand of a beautiful Igorot maiden but a prosaic dispute over a piece of land. Even so, as in those tales of old, the issue shall be decided in favor of the just and deserving albeit according to the dictates not of the heart but of the law.

The hero of this story we shall call Old Man Tumpao although at the time it all began he was still a young and vigorous man. He had a first wife by whom he begot three children, who are the private respondents in this case. Upon her death, he took to himself a second wife, by whom he had no issue but who had two children she had "adopted" according to the practice of the Igorots then. It is their children who, with some others, are the petitioners in this case.

The facts are as simple as the ancient hills."

— Mang-oy v. CA, G.R. No. L-27421 (September 12, 1986)

Who says there's no prose/poetry in ponencias?


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Labels: law school

For about a month or so now, I've been obsessing on calligraphy posts that Instagram has been referring to me. I have no idea how Instagram managed to figure out my yet-to-be-awakened interest on typography and longhand, but it did, thanks to the "People You May Like" page. It led me to a couple of local and international artists very much into the craft of calligraphy, and before I knew it, half of my feed was filled with fancy scribbles. (The other half being puppies. Heehee.)

Unknown to a lot of people, I am a stress-doodler. When I am most anxious or frustrated, I doodle a lot - quotes, lyrics, even shapes. Sometimes I just scribble swirls and random patterns. You can tell it's almost exam week when the corners of my notebooks and reviewers suddenly have Incubus lyrics on them. I enjoy the physical act of writing. I hoard pens of all colors and brands; I have stocks of notebooks and pad papers of all sizes. Yes, I love all kinds of writing. (This is probably why a high school classmate of mine, who once became a seatmate, thought "Creative Writing" was equivalent to "Creative Lettering and Fancy Handwriting." HA HA HAHAHA #truestory)

Which is why I kept asking myself the last few weeks, "Why haven't I tried calligraphy?" I have no idea why I never considered it before. It makes sense to have it as a hobby, given the amount of doodling I do. Maybe it's just that I never really saw people I knew doing it. It wasn't so accessible an idea to me. Until now.

A few weeks ago, I bought myself two calligraphy markers from National Bookstore and spent an entire night - guiltlessly - just writing down the choruses to Taylor Swift's new singles. And just over the weekend, my good friend Jio bought for me actual calligraphy supplies: two nibs, two pen holders (one straight and one oblique), and a small jar of ink.

And now, here I am, trying (and failing!) to make elegant scribbles in longhand. I guess I'm pretty lucky my cursive is quite decent, thanks to the Paulinian handwriting the nuns forced us to learn in grade school. It's actually overwhelming! Holding the pen takes a lot getting used to. So far, I'm still committing a lot of rookie mistakes. (Please forgive some messy letters in the picture above!) But it's great fun. It's relaxing, in the same way my regular, ordinary doodling makes me feel, but it's also challenging, which is always a good feeling to have. It's a nice distraction from the rigidity of law school.

A really, really fancy distraction.

*cue The Cure background music*


Reward for surviving another day of Tax (me), braving the Friday rush hour (him), and remembering milestones like the anniversary (both of us): Dinner at Abe in Trinoma!

I think it's only our first time to be sitting across each other on a date. The restaurant was full and we didn't have much of a choice, but it was fun pretending we were on our first date :))

We had gising-gising, gambas, and lamb adobo - which were all so incredibly delicious, we wanted to shake hands, high-five and then mano with Abe himself. (Pretty sure he's a cool lolo.) Then we had leche flan, which is the best thing on any Filipino restaurant menu ever. It is nectar from the gods; it is a little slice of heaven. It never disappoints. I can say the same for the boyfriend and this relationship thus far - but that'll be too cheesy, so I'll stop it right here :P

Happy 365th day since we decided to put it up on Facebook!

Many moons ago, I had a crush on my classmate in PE.

Every Wednesday and Friday, this song would be on loop inside my head. It was the perfect encapsulation of a happy crush. It was a crush that never went acknowledged. I didn't even bother considering if he reciprocated the feeling in the slightest. I was content walking beside him, talking about mundane things like the weather and birthdays. Oh to be sixteen, and to be partnered with a boy cute enough to make you want to walk for two hours, twice a week, for your first semester in UP. No matter that he wasn't yours, no matter that you shared only pleasantries and phone numbers. It wasn't like anything was ever going to come out of it.

Come sweeten every afternoon, I'd sing to myself.

Didn't think he'd actually do, all these years later.


*


It's been a year since you and I first went to Mass together and updated our status online. We've been going out for months before that, but we wanted the 11-12-13 date to match (because we're baduy like that!) Yep, it couldn't have been more ~*official*~ than God AND Facebook.

People may say "It's only been a year," but wow, if that is what a year with you feels like, then I can't wait for all the rest.

let all the things you mean to me
come tumbling out my mouth

(Let's try something out for a change. I must admit I haven't been able to read as much books for leisure as I used to because of law school. But often my "literary craving" is satiated by a really great article, story, or essay I come across in the Internet. As you may know, I'm more of a long-form fan more than any other kind of writing, and while I appreciate novels, it is almost usually this structure that appeals most to me, as someone who reads and someone who writes. So I guess this is my attempt at sharing that to you guys. Here goes: Required Reading.)








I've been a fan of the New York Times' Modern Love series for quite a few years now, and I can honestly say that every single time, each article makes me go, "Damn, I wish I would have written that." Not necessarily because I could relate and not necessarily because anything similar has happened to me, but because each one is so wonderfully crafted - in a very easy, light, but nonetheless profound - it makes me want to try to write the same way, if only I had the time.

I haven't really come across an article in Modern Love where I truly identified with the writer and the kind of love she was writing about. (I guess the loves that I've had aren't very... modern?) 

But I've always believed that that's an indication of a great piece of writing: when it doesn't necessarily affect you directly on an emotional level, but it actually makes you want to go out there and write, just because you feel that the piece has revealed something to you in its form. Somewhere between those lines is a style, is a rhythm. And you just feel compelled to recreate it.

This article is one such example.

"How love reveals itself is sometimes a slow process, the gradual accretion of all the seemingly mundane acts of kindness, sacrifice, mindfulness and even bad behavior two people share. Sarah's act was an instance of what love looks like, stripped of all the usual bells and whistles. To have the opportunity to witness that, regardless of the circumstances, left me feeling like a fortunate man."

— In A Small Bag, She Packed All Our Hopes by Tim McEown

It's always the little things, isn't it? And how the smallness is magnified by the prose. How I long to keep writing with the same kind of power, the kind that amplifies and finds meaning even in the quietest of things.


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Labels: required reading

So this is how it feels to celebrate your birthday right smack in the middle of midterms season.

I'm so used to having my birthday fall on a semester break, with me feeling all relaxed and laid-back in anticipation of the 26th. But not this year. Thanks to the academic calendar shift, I had the great luck of celebrating it at the height of all the stress! Good thing it fell on a Sunday, or else I probably wouldn't have had the time to really enjoy it.

After having hurdled that hell of a week, I could say that this birthday was definitely well-earned and deserved! I was tired and sleepless for the last two weeks, thanks to make-up classes, exams, and BarOps. But no complaints - I survived! And while I still have the rest of the semester to wade through, I'm glad I got this little day of respite over the last weekend to just hit restart and enjoy the company of loved ones.





We had lunch at this quaint little place in Scout Rallos, Victorino's. It's a restaurant specializing in authentic Ilocano-Filipino cuisine, owned by the Vice Governor of Ilocos, DV Savellano and the famed chef Heny Sison. I've been here before once with my parents, and we really enjoyed the place, which was why we thought it was the perfect, simple setting for my birthday lunch.

The interiors of the place are absolutely lovely. If I'm not mistaken, it was an old, antique house that got refurbished into a homey restaurant. I wasn't able to take photos of the interior design, unfortunately, but let's just say that even for someone like me who hasn't been to Ilocos, the decors sets the ambiance just right - it all seems genuine, authentic, and downright cozy.

And the food - oh, the food. Where do I even begin? Food writing had always been my waterloo back in my non-fic classes in college, because I'm never able to describe food properly when I find them delicious. Puro amazing and so, so good lang kaya ng powers ko pag nasasarapan talaga ako! :)) We ordered a lot actually, because my mom wanted to try out the dishes that you don't normally find in any typical Filipino restaurant, especially the Ilocano specialties. I particularly loved the crispy bagnet chips, the warek-warek (their version of sisig), the longganisa platter, and poqui-poqui (grilled eggplant). It was definitely something for the books! I've never tried most of those dishes before, and I had myself going for second (or third!) servings of almost all the ulam we ordered -- that's how good it was.




Aside from my parents, grandparents, and aunt, Ludwin and his sister Tanya were also there, and it was such a delight having them with us. It's great to see the people I care most in my life come together to celebrate the day with me. It's not everyday you find someone you can bring and introduce to your family, and I'm grateful Ludwin just fits right in. He's the type of guy I never have to worry about introducing to anyone, because he just seems to get on the good side of people always :)) It was nice having Tanya along too; she's been nothing but kind and sweet to me, and I always like hanging out with her. (She just passed the board exams for teachers today, btw. Congrats, dear!)






Allow me to make a separate paragraph dedicated especially for this cake. (Disclaimer: This isn't from Victorino's but from Wowa's friend, who's been making my birthday cakes for the last four years already.) The best part of my birthday is usually the cake - and this year, again, is no exception. Wowa's friend makes cakes of unique flavors, just like this one: orange/lemon chiffon. It's got just the right amount of sweet and tangy combined, which I absolutely love. I'm not so big on sweets but cakes are on a separate pedestal altogether, and this cake just sets the bar :))

And can we all just take a moment to appreciate that little bookmark on top? It's so, so cute! Perfect for this bookworm, really.




After lunch, my family and I went to Mass at Quiapo Church, and offered my thanksgiving for the year that was. This year has been mostly about putting things back together - one of which was working on my faith. I never claimed to be religious or spiritual even, but this year, I found a deeper appreciation for the things I believe in. I guess we all have our journeys to take when it comes to our faith. Mine took a quiet turn to indifference back in college - nothing drastic, but of course I went through that phase of questioning a lot of things about the church. I guess, it's normal for people our age to feel a bit apathetic about religion, especially when you're only starting to navigate your way through adulthood and maturity. But last summer, I realized again how beautiful it is to hold on to my faith and to let it strengthen me. I still have my reservations, but it's mostly about the people and not the beliefs. I started going to Mass more often in the last year, especially this summer during my internship. I'd drop by the chapel at Landmark after work while waiting for my mom and papa to pick me up. And now more than ever, I realized that God has never failed me - even when I thought He did, He has only led me to something better. Always.

Such a great thing my birthday fell on a Sunday, then.





Really couldn't be more grateful to be surrounded by people I love on my birthday. Also worth mentioning: the night before, I got a surprise from my blockmates before our exam, and at midnight during BarOps, my sisses surprised me with cupcakes and a tiara :) I really appreciated the "surprise" (I kinda played mind-games on them and convinced them to surprise me, hahaha what a diva!); it's at times like this when I realize how much I have to be grateful for, and how I really cannot complain about anything because I'm such a lucky girl to be surrounded by great, amazing people. It's always good to be reminded that no matter what happens, there are people who will never leave your side, no matter what. They'll keep your feet on the ground, but they'll push you to greater heights too :)

There was a time when I felt that every single dot of my life created an image of this song. That if you connect all the random moments, all the little parts of me, it would lead you to this song.

I can still vividly recall the first time I heard it. It was in high school, and like all the other bands I loved at that time, it was because of One Tree Hill. This was from the OTH Friends with Benefit soundtrack (which I had an actual copy of; I asked my parents to buy me one when they were in the US).

The moment I heard this song (track number twelve on the CD - yep, I remember) and its dizzying, cathartic one-and-a-half-minute intro, I knew I have found something. What it was exactly, I wasn't quite sure yet. Everything was just a masterful, wonderful melody entwined with words that sounded romantic and sweeping to me. I was sure it was special, but I didn't know yet why.

It easily became my favorite song just because it was titled 23. It was Nathan Scott's jersey number. And it really was nothing more than that. All my high school fangirl-y feelings condensed into one song, and one love that didn't even make sense, for a fictional character. Over the years, 23 had become many things to me. It meant so much to me as the years went on, because it was the score to what I thought was a great love, as defined by that show. (#Naley4ever!!) It sounds crazy and shallow now, but for a teenager with a lot of feelings, it made sense. It was the soundtrack to many other moments long after high school, to many other beers and coffees and hellos and goodbyes. It was the song of my "youth" -- that time of being young, of feeling insecure and scared but also invincible and courageous all at the same time. It was the dramatic montage pre-credits anthem of my being a teenager. 23 defined a chapter of my life; a time so far removed from my present.

The song hasn't changed. But the girl who first listened to it and once held it dear had.

Yep, someone's got a full plate.

Wifely influence.

#YunYonEh
#AlamNa


Public service announcement: Wives (and girlfriends?), take note!


__

Labels: law school

Dodo (my grandpa) turned 83rd birthday today, October 7, but we celebrated it last Sunday. We had lunch at Mesa, which is one of my lolo's favorite restaurants. (He loves Filipino food.)

Hello, I'm Karla Bernardo. If you Google my name, you will find the Wikipedia entry of a Canadian serial-killer (and trust me, you do not want to read about that - but I'm sure you will because now you're curious), which is why I suggest you type Bombastarr instead so you can stalk me better.

I spent eight-and-a-half years of my life in the University of the Philippines, where I graduated with degrees in Creative Writing and Juris Doctor. It is also where I learned how to speak a bit of Italian, got a taste of the best tapsilog, and took striptease for PE.

I love telling stories, as much as I enjoy finding them.

<center><font style="color: #ffffff;">____</font>Want <a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/09096636074047764491">more</a>?</center><br>

Featured Works

Stargirl (Cover story for Nadine Lustre, Scout, January-February 2017)
Surreal / So Real (at Scout)
Ode to a Great Love's 17-year-old Self (Love.Life, Philippine Daily Inquirer)
Postcard from Diliman (Youngblood, Philippine Daily Inquirer)

Writer for Philippine Law Register
A Call to Arms (January 2017)
Expecting the Expected (March 2016)

Former Writer for Stache Magazine
The Hero's Journey (June 2013)
The 8 People You Become In Your Youth (June 2013)
The Best Bad Idea That Is Argo (April 2013)
Mike Ross Remembers Everything You Don't (August 2012)
Style Between the Riffs (August 2012)
Book Lovers Never Sleep Alone (June 2012)
A Spectrum of Change (December 2011)
Digital Art (October 2011)
Elements of Style (June 2011)
In Her White Dress (All-Art April 2011 issue)

Morning After Pill (Fervore: Literary Folio 2013, UP Portia Sorority)
How To Make a Blueberry Cheesecake (Kalas: Kalasag Literary Folio 2011, UP College of Arts and Letters)
January 14th (100: The Hundreds Project, UP Writer's Club)

An Ode to The Pillow Book (at New-Slang)
Introductions (at TeenInk)
One by One (at TeenInk)

   

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27(.5)
Endgame
Standout Songs: "Overkill" on Scrubs
You'll be out of the dark, yeah you'll get your shot
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Something
Conflict resolution
Book frustrations

This Is How It Doesn't Start

this is how it doesn't start, in eleven parts

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Got a comment, question, violent reaction, love letter, or random piece of information you want to share with me? Just fire away. I don't bite.

(I changed my form and went back to Freedback because Ask.fm's being a bitch, requiring people to sign up for accounts before asking questions. Because I love you guys, I tweaked my ask box a bit, so that the questions will now go directly to my e-mail, but I'll be posting the answers still on my Ask.fm for convenience. TL;DR - I'll still be getting your questions so no worries. You're still free to harass me / send me your love.)

Answers

Most Frequently Asked Question

Are you a pornstar?
No, I am not a pornstar, stripper, or your friendly neighborhood call girl. It's just a fancy pseudonym with a long history, and two R's. Rawr.

Bombastarr is my personal blog and my little corner in the Internet since 2005. Yes, I started writing here when I was 13 years old (aka when I was very angsty, hormonal, and always gushing at the littlest things) -- ergo, you'd have to forgive me if you come across an old post that reeks of immaturity and slightly unpolished grammar. I did a lot of growing up here, and from the looks of it, there's still a lot of growing up to do, so I don't think I'll be leaving this place any time soon.

The domain, Bombastarr.com, was purchased on June 2014 and launched on July 2014, on the blog's ninth year (and fifth month, to be exact).

It's crazy to think that this blog is now thirteen years old, because (1) that seems like an eternity in internet years, and (2) that means if my blog were a kid, it's a teenager! That's insane.

Here's to more tales, explosive and otherwise.

If you've been living under a rock and think I'm a threat to world peace or an object of covetousness, sorry to disappoint you, folks: it's just a fancy pseudonym.

As in most things, it started in high school. It began as a joke between me and a couple of friends during our freshman year. We were practicing for a field demonstration dance which involved the use of shawls, and being the crazy-always-trying-to-be-funny person that I was (or I always attempted to be) I started doing poses with the garment. Someone started taking my picture using my phone, and one shot looked like I was posing for those B-list movies (or should it be R-list, as in R-rated?) of the vegetable-nomenclature variety. #IKYWIM. Hence, the word, "Bombastarr." Yes, very cheeky, I know, but for a 13-year-old, it was quirky enough to figure as a username. That was 2005, right around the time I trying to decide on a URL for a new blog. It's been a lot of years since, and what started as a joke became something I've eventually embraced as an identity.

Despite the many other chances I've gotten to permanently move (to Multiply, Livejournal, Tumblr, Wordpress; to a bigger platform where I can earn or use the blog as a venue for commerce), I've come to realize that Bombastarr is something I can never truly leave behind. It is a place I've grown to appreciate and love because it is a place I can call my own. It's a venue for my rants, my views, my writing. It is home, and it is who I am.

Bombastarr is a glimpse of my life: the thoughts, ideas, and stories that shape it into what it is, and what it will still become. This journal has been with me for all my crazy, often embarrassing adventures, but I'm sure there will be more anecdotes and feelings and people to write about. Which is something I'm really looking forward to. After all, you know what they say about the greatest stories - sometimes, there's still a lot that's left unwritten.

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